


Heart Under The Mountain

by fairiel



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-08 02:50:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3192464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairiel/pseuds/fairiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every story has a beginning. This is my take on what happened before Thorin's company left the Blue Mountains to reclaim Erebor, before the sons of Durin met their fate. What if? What if Fili fell in love? Would it have changed anything?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Homecoming

It felt exactly as she thought it would. Homecoming. The wind was lashing at her face, making her eyes watery with the cold, but even through the tears, Katla could see the shapes of the mountains afar in the horizon. Ered Luin. How she had longed to go back. How she had dreamed of that moment. She kicked her pony to make it go faster, turning slightly to encourage her small escort to do the same. 

“Quick” she exhorted her companions. “We’re almost there.”

They nodded, setting their mounts at a trot. The cart had slowed them down and the trip from the Iron Hills had taken ages. But at last, she could see the end of it, and her heart heaved with joy at the thought of her family. Or rather, what she called family, for her real parents were long dead.

The wind continued to blow, relentlessly, drawing her brown braids in her face, but she knew they would reach the mountains before the end of the day. 

Even in her warm fur coat and gloves, she shivered, not sure if it was the cold or her eagerness to finally get to destination. She had missed home so much all those years. But her depart had been inevitable. She had known it from the moment old Gerda had cast the rune stones and seen her future. There were healers of sorts in the Blue Mountains, but none of them could teach her what she needed to know. Gerda had said it was her calling, and in truth she had felt it too. Strong. Powerful. Imperious. 

Healing required extensive studies with teachers that could only be found far away, in her distant kin of the Iron Hills. The road was long and perilous but Gerda had been adamant. Katla needed to go. She needed to learn. If she didn’t, she would not reach her full potential, and there was no need to explain the importance of a trained healer in their small community. 

She still remembered the day she had left. She counted only 30 years by dwarf reckoning. Not a child anymore, but still so young. Balin had been angry at Gerda, but the old oracle would not be denied and he had had no choice. It broke his heart to part from the child he had raised, even though she wasn’t his by blood. He had taken her in when her parents had died in that terrible accident so long ago. She had been no more than seven at the time and remembered them dimly. Balin and his sister Gerda were her only family. The only people she truly loved. Balin had agreed she would leave on one condition, that he would take her there himself. 

So, on a sunny day of early spring, she had set out for the Iron Hills with Balin and a small party. She had tried to harden her heart, but when little Kíli had tugged at her travel coat asking why she had to leave, all her resolve had threatened to leave her. He was only a few years younger than her and would not let go until she promised she would come back with presents. Still, his brother Fíli had to hold him to prevent him from running after her. She had turned to wave goodbye and seeing them hugging each other, blond and dark hair tangled in the wind, their hands raised in a last parting salute, had torn her heart in two. Tears had flowed from her eyes as she fought the urge of turning back.

They had all grown together, she, Balin’s ward, and them, Thorin’s nephews. Dwarrow children were a gift, for they were rare, so Thorin had thought it fitting to raise them all as one, as they were all roughly the same age. Blessed time, Katla remembered with a fond smile, however short it had been. No one had ever been kinder to her. Thorin’s sister, Dís, knew countless stories that she was only too happy to tell in the evening, in the light of the fire. Katla’s great pleasure was to listen to the tales of Erebor, forever lost, her eyes and those of the boys widening with wonder at all the treasures still buried there. She could see the longing, the nostalgia, in her elders’ eyes, without understanding. Ered Luin was her home and the Lonely Mountain seemed so far away, so out of reach it felt like a myth. Unreal and fabled.

They didn’t have much but as poor as they were, her childhood had been golden, filled with laughter and love. The boys and her had been inseparable. They used to play in the snow until all of them were utterly out of breath and collapsed on the ground, white spray all over them. They used to watch men from afar as they travelled back and forth the mountains and make up stories of what they would do if they met orcs. Kíli would kill them all, just as his uncle Thorin once had at the Battle of Azanulbizar. Fíli would laugh at his brother, saying he would not leave any for him to kill. Thorin would overhear and reprimand them, telling them orcs were not a joke. But they would just jump in his arms and ask him to sing his song of the misty mountains. Thorin had the most wonderful baritone she had ever heard and they would all listen, eyes closed, letting the mournful melody fill their minds, forever longing for a place they had never known and would probably never know. Blessed days indeed. 

The boys’ laughter was the thing she had missed the most during her stay in the Iron Hills. Their laughter and the way the fire light always seemed to dance in Fíli’s eyes as he smiled at her. The way he would let her braid his hair. She still remembered how soft it was under her fingers. Her heart sang with joy at the idea of seeing them again. All grown-up now. Would she recognize them? Would they even know her after all those years? 

While her mind wandered, her small company had reached Ered Luin and Katla could see the gate. Soon, they would all be reunited and all her questions would be answered. They dismounted in front of the gate and led their ponies inside. As soon as they entered, they were greeted by two young dwarrows richly dressed in furs. Katla smiled. She would have known them anywhere. Tall dark-haired Kíli, his mouth ever ready for a grin, eyes full of mischief, just the shadow of a beard on his cheeks and chin. And next to him, Fíli, numerous blond braids tied with carved metal beads, trying to look stern in spite of his laughing eyes and smirking mouth. He was smaller but had a natural air of command about him that she surprisingly found intimidating. He seemed to have come into his own as Thorin’s heir, and her smile dropped. No way he would let her braid his hair now.

“My lords,” she said, executing a small curtsey, awkward in her riding gear.

“What is all this?” Kíli asked.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Fíli asked at the same time.

She burst out laughing. Why did she ever think she would not recognize them?

“Don’t you know who I am?” she finally replied when her laughter subsided. “Have I changed that much in 50 years? Because _you_ haven’t changed a bit.” She paused, enjoying their bewildered faces. “I remembered my promise and came back with presents.” She pointed at the cart.

Kíli gaped at those words and instantly rushed to hug her.

“Kat!” he exclaimed. “I knew you were looking familiar!”

She resumed her laughing, embracing him back as he easily lifted her from the ground.

“Fíli, come on!” Kíli turned to his brother after putting her back down. “Don’t just stand there. Greet her!”

Fíli bowed slightly then took her hand, pressing his palm against hers. “Welcome back, dear Katla.”

He looked straight at her as if his eyes wanted to pierce the secrets of her soul. She felt her cheeks color in an instant. She remembered how clear his eyes were, but she had no idea where the look in them came from. His fingers lightly brushed hers as he released her hand. Then, with a large smile, he took her in his arms. She reciprocated the gesture, amazed at how warm he felt. It had been a long and cold day, after all, and she had an overwhelming sense of having finally come home. 

“We thought you’d never come back!” he exclaimed, finally letting her go.

“I promised I would.” She raised an eyebrow in reprove. How could they even believe she would not stay true to her word?

“You certainly took your time, though. I wonder what could have detained you there?”

Her studies had been long indeed but it was true she had not come back straight away. She looked at her feet, uneasy, for she had no good reason to give.

“They wanted me to stay” she explained, remaining evasive.

Life in the Iron Hills had been sweet, even if she was separated from her family. And there was always new things to learn. Knowledge that was beyond her reach here in Thorin’s Hall.

“Oh yes, we guessed as much” Kíli put in. “You probably had a good reason to stay. Like marriage, for example.”

She looked at them, crushed that they could think her so fickle.

“You know my heart only belongs here” she said, blushing harder as she looked at Fíli. “With my people. With my family.”

“Well, talking about family” Kíli continued, “I know someone who’s going to be mighty glad to see you. Come, let’s go find him!”

And with these words, he seized her arm and dragged her along the familiar hall, all enthusiasm and happiness. She could only follow, answering the numerous questions they had for her.

“Was the training hard?” Fíli asked.

“Not as hard as being groomed to succeed Thorin, I gather.” She winked at him.

“I assure you, it’s not all that bad” he said, making a face.

“Yes, I’m sure” she chuckled. 

Thorin could be difficult but he loved his nephews more than anything in the world.

“So now you’re a full trained healer” Kíli chimed in, “everyone is going to ask you out.”

“Oh really?” she asked in surprise. 

In the Iron Hills, the healer’s position hadn’t seemed so enviable, and her mentor had certainly not been courted. But then again, she had been old and grumpy. It was true, though, that her fellow apprentices had been popular, gathering attention wherever they went. But not her. Maybe because she was a stranger. Or maybe because she mostly kept to herself. There was no way to know.

“You’ll be our only healer” Kíli replied. “It’s a respected position. As high as our oracle.”

“Yes, very fitting” Fíli interjected, as if talking to himself.

For a moment, Katla wondered if she had heard the words alright. What did he mean? But she had no time to ask as they arrived in front of a well beloved door. Kíli knocked and entered, and there he was, the one she considered as her father, studying an old manuscript. Katla uttered a small cry as she rushed into his arms, tears of joy running down her cheeks. 

“Balin!” she exclaimed, and the venerable old dwarf pressed her against his white beard, caressing her hair.

“My child” he said softly. “How grown you are!”

“We’ll see you later” Fíli said, making for the door.

“But-“ Kíli clearly wanted to stay, but his brother dragged him along.

“Just leave them alone, they haven’t seen each other for a long time. And besides, you need to practice your archery. Uncle Thorin won’t be happy if he sees you haven’t improved.”

“I’m still better than you” Kíli replied as they both left the room, leaving Katla and Balin to their happy reunion.

 


	2. Misunderstanding

For a little more than a year, Katla put her skills to good use, keeping busy, healing all kinds of aches and pains. Nothing too serious or too challenging, even though her studies had prepared her for the worst. Once, she had to treat a sprained ankle. Another time, a hunter came back with a wolf bite on his arm that she had to sew. But all in all, it had been very quiet. Dwarrows were a sturdy people and not prone to illness. And in these times of peace, there was not much to do apart from giving comfort to the elderly. Of course, accidents could always happen and she had to be ready for anything.

When she wasn’t working, she would help Balin with his books and manuscripts, take care of his older sister Gerda, and start to pass down her knowledge. She had even begun writing a book in which she told of the various remedies she had learnt during her stay in the Iron Hills. She also spent some time helping Dís with the cooking and the cleaning. Thorin’s sister had the largest lodgings, just a little further down the corridor, and her sons still lived with her. They were gone most of the time and Dís always felt a little lonely, so she welcomed Katla to her hearth with warmth. 

Sometimes, when everybody was there, they would all gather in the evening for a meal, Thorin in between his nephews, Dís, Balin, Gerda and Katla. Almost like old times. It was only a fleeting feeling, but there was something different, although she couldn’t quite place it. Things had changed and she no longer felt so at ease as she used to. She had spent more than half her life in a foreign place, and she sometimes felt out place, as if she didn’t really belong. All the people she once loved treated her differently. Maybe because they were older now. Older but not so much wiser.

She was wakened in the middle of the night by loud bangs on the door. When she got out of her room, tightening her night robes around her, Balin was already up with a candle. He opened the door and Fíli spilled inside with Kíli.

“Do something!” Fíli told the little healer hurriedly. “I think he broke his arm.”

“Let me see” she said, feeling Kíli’s arm for a weakness. 

He winced as she prodded along.

“It’s nothing. It doesn’t even hurt” he shrugged.

“Oh really?” she smirked before squeezing as hard as she could.

He gave a muffled cry, still refusing to admit the pain was nearly unbearable. 

“Definitely broken” Katla stated. “Keep your courage for the battlefield. You don’t have to be ashamed of your pain here.”

She turned to Fíli.

“Let him sit down, I’ll have to reduce the fracture so the bones can knit back together.”

She asked Balin to rekindle the fire and boil some water, then she sprinkled herbs in the pot.

“Take off your clothes” she ordered Kíli. “I need to see what I’m doing.”

She was clearly in charge so the young dwarf stripped without further comment, wincing again as he tried to take his arm off his sleeve. Fíli came to the rescue, tearing the fabric off, brows furrowed with concern. Katla peered at the geometric shapes tattooed on Kíli’s upper arm, surprise painted on her face. She had no idea he had anything of the sort and couldn’t help but wonder if Fíli had a matching one.

“Drink” she said, finally collecting herself as she handed Kíli a bowl of herbal tea.

“What is this for?” he asked suspiciously.

“Don’t ask. Just drink” she replied, not suffering her experience to be questioned. 

He drank it all, making a face at the bitterness of the beverage.

“How did it happen?” she asked while placing her hands on his arm.

Making conversation was a good way to distract the patient while she worked.

“I fell.”

“I can see that. How did you fall?”

“I was trying to climb up a cliff and my foot slipped.”

As he was talking, she quickly pulled at his arm with all of her strength, putting the bones back in place. Kíli gave a sudden cry.

“What did you do that for?”

She didn’t even bother to answer, wrapping his arm with several layers of clean clothes. This would reduce the swelling. 

“Don’t move” she instructed.

She took two wooden splints from the store she kept in her large cupboard, then placed them on each side of Kíli’s arm, binding them to his shoulder with a leather strap.

“You’ll have to keep the splints for at least a week.”

“A week?” he asked, eyes widening.

She nodded with a faint smile at his visible disappointment.

“It’s not that much. You could have killed yourself! What were you thinking, climbing the cliff at night with no visibility?” she admonished hotly. “And you” she turned to face Fíli, hands on her waist. “What is wrong with you, letting your brother endanger his life? I bet it was you who put him in harm’s way. Was it one of those stupid challenges again? When will you ever learn!”

She regretted her words as soon as they left her lips. Kíli needed nobody’s help to do foolish things. But she couldn’t stop herself. It was in her nature to care and protect, and as hard as it was to admit, her cool demeanor had only been an act to hide her true feelings. Seeing one of her loved ones so hurt had torn at her heart and her hands trembled now from the anguish it had given her. They would mistake it for anger, certainly. But truth be told, she wasn’t angry in the least. She was upset. Kíli was reckless. He had always been that way, even as a child. And she knew it worried Fíli as well, although he hid it very well.

“I-I’m sorry” she mumbled in apology, biting her lips as she realized what she had said. “I’ve overstepped my rights.”

It was so easy to forget that Fíli was Thorin’s heir and would one day succeed him. He disliked being called Prince, just as Thorin disliked being called King, but that was nevertheless what he was. She waited for his reproach, head bowed low, but it never came.

“Is that what you think of me?” he asked instead.

She raised her head and saw an unexpected pain in his eyes.

“You have changed” he continued with bitterness. “The girl I once knew would never have apologized.”

She gasped.

“Come, laddie” Balin spoke up. “Leave the lass alone. She’s tired. It’s the middle of the night.”

Fíli glared at her before storming out of the room, calling his brother after him. Katla just stood there, frozen. Then she rushed at the door. But Balin held her arm, preventing her from running after them. She turned to face the elderly dwarf.

“Why?” she asked him. “Why is he angry at me? What have I done?”

“Leave him be” he said. “He just needs to blow some steam. Young people-“ he sighed, shrugging.

“I don’t understand” she said, more distressed than she cared to admit.

Balin stroked at her hair with a comforting hand.

“Don’t fret over it. Go back to bed and try to sleep.”

But she couldn’t sleep that night. She tossed and turned in her bed, wondering what Fíli had meant.

 

The next morning, she took it upon herself to go check on Kíli and see if he didn’t need anything else. She dressed up quickly, fastening her healer’s pouch at her belt as she always did, then made her way to Dís’s lodgings. She knocked on the door and waited, concerned that Fíli might still be angry at her. Dís opened and her face brightened when she saw the little healer.

“Good morning, Katla” she greeted her. “I take it you’re here to see how my son is doing?”

Katla nodded as Dís let her inside. Both brothers were having breakfast and she wondered from the look on their faces if they had any sleep at all. Kíli smiled, offering her to share the meal. She declined with a slight shake of her head.

“I just came to check if everything was alright with you and your sling” she said. “I won’t be long.”

“Don’t see why it wouldn’t be” Fíli put in bitterly. “You didn’t have to get up so early for that. We haven’t even finished breakfast yet.”

His words fell like a slap and her cheeks turned crimson with shame. She hadn’t taken the time to eat, but to tell the truth she had been more worried about Fíli’s feelings than his brother’s arm. What had she done? She was clueless.

“Fíli!” Dís reprimanded. “Katla is our healer and our friend. You will show proper respect.”

He stared at his mother, finally realizing he had been inappropriate. He stood up, mumbling an apology, both to his mother and to Katla, before leaving the room with no further explanation.

“Don’t worry” Kíli said, winking at her. “He thinks you have a soft spot for me.”

Katla’s eyes widened and if her cheeks could have turned redder than they already were, they would have. They had always been good friends, all three of them. But it was true she liked Fíli best, although she had done all she could not to let it show, for various reasons. It was innocent enough when they were younger and then she had to leave. And now that she was back, her feelings had evolved into something else, an attraction that was hard to deny. Was it love? She didn’t know. How could she? She had never witnessed it anywhere, even during her stay in the Iron Hills. But there was no denying the way her eyes always followed him wherever he went. Her cheeks burned when he looked at her and her insides churned at the mere thought of him.

She could not understand how she had given him reason to believe that she favored his brother. Her first impulse was to run after him and tell him he was wrong. Then it dawned on her and she gasped aloud. Was he-? Could he-? The shock of the revelation was too hard to take and she had to sit down. 

“B-But-“ she stammered, still unable to grasp the concept.

He had been rather distant with her. Not at first, but throughout the weeks she had noticed he was around less often, and he would not really talk to her when he was there to share the evening meal. She had blamed it on growing up. They were not children anymore and it was only normal he would behave differently. But Kíli hadn’t changed his behavior. Kíli had been as friendly as ever. How did she not see the signs? She gasped again. No. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t like her that way. There must be something else. Kíli was most certainly mistaken.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and she looked up. Dís had sat next to her, offering comfort while Kíli elaborated.

“You remember when that patient of yours, Soli, came to ask you to marry him after you’d sown back his wound?”

She nodded. Of course, she remembered the awkward moment in every detail. Soli had been hunting when wolves attacked him. She had to sew his arm and after that, he had developed affections for her that she had to firmly deny. She would not marry him, whatever he offered. He had been relentless, asking her several times until he understood she would not change her mind. Gerda had said it was to be expected. She was after all their one and only real healer and the position was respected and powerful. It was bound to attract propositions of that kind.

“What of it?” she asked, failing to see the connection with Fíli.

“That’s when he started ailing” Kíli explained.

Dís confirmed with a slight nod of her head.

“He thought you’d refuse him too if he asked” Kíli continued. “He got it in his head that you liked me better. I tried to tell him he was being foolish, that you didn’t like me that way, but yesterday you were so worried about me and you putting the blame on him and all that, it was too much for him.”

Katla shook her head, still unable to believe any of it.

“Do you have feelings for my son?” Dís inquired.

She didn’t have to think about it to know that she did. But what did they expect her to do about it? Fíli was of the line of Durin and Thorin’s heir. A Prince in everything but title. How was she even worthy of him?

“Do you?” Dís insisted.

The little healer looked her in the eyes, sighing.

“I- I think so- Yes” she finally admitted.

“Then you have to tell him” Dís said with a smile. “I’ll be glad to have you as daughter-in-law.”

It took a whole minute for the notion to sink in. Fíli’s wife. Could it be? They all certainly thought it possible.

“Do you really think-?” she asked.

Kíli nodded eagerly.

“I don’t think, I know. He told me so, although he didn’t want to admit it at first.”

“But-“ she hesitated. “What about Thorin? Shouldn’t he be asked if I’m proper enough?”

“Thorin?” Dís snorted. “He doesn’t have a say in the matter. If my son wants to have you, it should be enough for my brother.”

Katla breathed deeply, desperately fighting for air.

“Now go and find him, my dear. Tell him everything that’s in your heart” Dís continued, patting her back. “It’s easier than you think.”

 

Katla needed some air. She couldn’t think properly if she stayed inside, so she decided to go out for a walk. It was still deep winter and there had been a snow storm the day before, but now everything was calm and quiet. She grabbed her heavy fur cloak and made out for the gate. No one dared question why their healer was going out in the middle of winter. They probably thought she needed to get things for her potions. They were not entirely wrong. She had taken her small shovel, just in case she found some roots to dig. It would be a nice addition to their evening meal.

Katla wandered aimlessly, trying to gather her thoughts, until she realized she had made it to the small lake just south of the mountains. There was such a thick layer of snow that she had to squint as she was dazzled by the whiteness of it. The surface of the lake was frozen entirely, except for a small part that had been broken. She wondered why that was when she spotted a figure just getting out of the water. Even with the distance, there was no mistaking those long blond braids. Fíli. Her eyes widened as she took out his broad shoulders, the way the muscles moved along his back as he dried himself. She blushed furiously but couldn’t avert her eyes, wishing he would take her in his strong arms and lay her on the snow. She didn’t even know where those thoughts came from. A rabbit in its winter coat suddenly jumped out of the bushes, distracting her for a second, and she recollected herself. He must be freezing. If he stayed any longer in the cold like that, he was going to catch his death.

She stepped forward, gathering branches for a fire as she walked. She was reaching for her flint and tinder in her pouch when he finally caught sight of her. His eyes flashed at her and she stopped in her tracks, almost dropping the branches. He was still angry.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you. I was just taking a stroll, and -” she explained, hesitant. “If you don’t light a fire, you’ll die of a cold.”

He was standing only in his boots and trousers, broad chest exposed to the biting wind and wet hair getting the frost. She couldn’t help but notice he had a tattoo on his upper arm that matched his brother’s, although larger and more intricate, probably as a sign of his status. She had to fight the irrepressible urge to trace its contours with her fingers. She busied herself with the fire, lighting it swiftly to give herself some countenance.

“Ever the healer” Fíli replied. Was it a hint of bitterness she caught in his tone? “Well, don’t bother. I don’t intend to stay. I only needed a swim to put my thoughts back in place.”

She looked up as he finished getting dressed, shaking his hair to prevent the frost from settling in it, ready to go. Obviously, her presence still upset him.

“Why?” she blurted out. “Why are you so angry at me? What have I done?”

She couldn’t take it any more. He had to tell her.

“Don’t you know?” he sighed. “I bet Kíli must have told you by now. He finds it very amusing. But you are welcome to him any time. You don’t need to ask for my permission.” And he left her standing there as he walked away without turning back. She froze as she watched him leave, his words lashing at her even worse than the stinging cold.


	3. The Promise

After Fíli had left, Katla stayed by the fire for a long time before finally stirring and returning to the mountains. What was the point? He would not listen, and she was not sure she could find the words to explain.

She went back to the little study she kept for her practice inside Balin’s chambers, hoping work would keep her mind busy and prevent her from dwelling on upsetting thoughts. But there was nothing waiting for her there, no one to fix, no job to do. She tried to write some more of her book, but only managed to stare blankly at the page. She sighed so loud that Balin, who was reading in the main room, heard and came pointing his nose at her half-open door.

“What’s ailing you, dear one?” he asked.

Her chest heaved as she shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it, father.” Talking had done no good so far and she wanted none of it.

“But there must be something I can do for you” Balin said, and she felt grateful that he didn’t ask more questions.

“You can come and sit here with me, if you’d like” she replied, choking back her tears.

Sitting next to her, he quickly wrapped his arms around her. She fell into his soft and familiar embrace, not knowing how much she had needed it. He just held her, as he did when she was a little child, in complete silence. She closed her eyes, memories filling her mind of a time when she was small and had no cares. A time when she made him proud with her neat handwriting and her ability to learn faster than anyone. A time when life was easy and there was no jealousy, only friendship and love.

“Why can’t we go back?” she finally asked.

“Go back where?”

“To the time when we were all children and didn’t care about anything but our friendship? When I could go see Dís whenever I wanted and we would all sleep together under the same furs, never asking each other which one we preferred, because there were so many more important things.” She sighed in frustration.

“Are you still fussed about what happened yesterday?” Balin inquired.

“Fussed?” What a strange choice of word, she thought. “I’m not the one making a fuss.”

Balin sighed and patted her on the back. “He’s young. He doesn’t know how to deal with his feelings. You need to give him more time. He’ll come around.”

She wished with all her heart Balin was right. She couldn’t remember a time when he had been wrong, but love was not exactly his area of expertise.

“Why is love so hard?” she asked, staring deep into his eyes.

“That, my sweet, I cannot tell” he answered. “But this, I know. If you love him and he loves you, then everything will be alright. You will find a way. But sometimes, it is better to wait. Like I said, give him more time to process his feelings.”

Time heals everything, as the saying went. There was nothing else she could do but wait for him to come around.

 

The next day, she didn’t feel any better so she climbed up the stairs to her only safe refuge. High up in the mountain, there was a narrow ledge above the gate where one could spy the outside world. She liked to go there when she needed to be alone.

As she arrived on top of the stairs, she embraced the view, majestic as always. Snow was glittering white as far as she could see and the air was still and pure. She sat on the ledge, her back on the rocky wall, huddled in her winter cloak, the wind in her face. She stared in the void for the longest time, unable to get a grip on herself. She desperately searched for a solution to her problem. It all felt so overwhelming. She tried breathing in and out as slow as she could, to calm the turmoils of her heart. To no avail. Tears of frustration were burning her eyes, not wanting to come out.

She was still very much lost in her own thoughts when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to find Fíli standing on the last step of the stairs, fidgeting.

“Balin told me I’d find you here” he said, not daring to move any further.

She made to get up but he signaled for her to stay. He had asked Balin about her. He wanted to talk to her. Somehow he had changed his mind. But why? She didn’t dare raise her hopes too high. He came forward and sat down next to her. 

“I have been rude to you and I apologize” he said, looking her in the eyes. “I know you only meant well.”

He reached out for her hands, holding them in his as he spoke. Her heart started to beat faster at this simple touch. What was happening? He didn’t seem angry anymore. No, he looked sad instead. Sad and resigned. As if he had made a hard decision. She frowned. She hated that look on his face. More than anything, she hated that she was responsible for it. As far as she remembered, Fíli had only been smiles and laughter, as easy-going as could be, always ready with a joke or a funny song.

“I have no say in your happiness” he went on, but she wasn’t listening to him. She could only see the sorrow in his eyes. Sorrow that was mingled with something else. Longing maybe? She ached to hold him in her arms and comfort him, telling him it would be alright, everything would be alright, she was his if he wanted her, and everything would be alright. But words eluded her. His face was so close to hers, it was hard not to stare at his lips as he was talking. If only she could do something that would prove to him- 

He was still going on: “If you want to be with Kíli- I mean, if that’s what you really want- “

She leaned forward, interrupting him as her mouth touched his, soft as a snow flake. She quickly bolted back, surprised at her own boldness. He tightened his grip on her hands for a second, clear eyes staring at her in disbelief.

“But I- “ he stammered. “I thought you preferred Kíli- “

She brought his hands up to her face, kissing them, a gentle brush of her lips. He stared at her for the longest time, holding his breath, then opened his hands and slowly cupped her face. He bent until his mouth was on hers, his hesitation quickly turning into an urgent kiss, one of his hands snaking around her head to bring her closer. She gave into it, as hungry for his touch as he was for hers, warm and soft and wet, lips pressing against each other. She felt a shiver run down her spine, tiny goosebumps erupting everywhere on her skin as she put her arms around him. When he finally released her, after what seemed like an eternity, both his mouth and eyes were smiling. She smiled back at him, holding him as tight as she could, her cheek pressed on his, the soft hair of his beard gently tickling her. She had dreamed about this moment since she was a child, even before she knew what love was. Her dreams had left her with an ache she had thought impossible to erase. But now the pain was gone, replaced by a happiness without boundaries.

She rested her chin on his shoulder. He stroked her hair, murmuring her name softly in her ear, as if to make sure she was really there. So, that was what it felt like, love. It had been hard but now it was all sweet and happy. She breathed him in with delight, the smell of his skin and his hair making her dizzy.

After a while, he disentangled his body from hers and reached into his pocket, producing a tiny amulet carved from iron with complex symbols. She realized with wonder that the signs were the exact same as his tattoo.

“Katla, I’m asking you solemnly, will you marry me?” he asked, words nearly choking in his throat.

She felt her heart heave with joy. 

“Yes! Yes, of course I want to marry you!” she exclaimed, not even thinking about it.

He beamed at her, tying the amulet around her neck, settling the deal.

“Did you make it yourself?” she asked, admiring the work. 

Unlike his uncle Thorin, Fíli was not so good at forging, and all his weapons and valuables had been made by others. She appreciated the gift doubly as she imagined the amount of time and patience it must have taken him to achieve such a tiny and delicate thing.

He nodded, explaining: “I knew I wanted you ever since you came back from the Iron Hills. That’s when I started working on it. I wanted to give you a fitting promise gift. But then-“ He shook his head. “I don’t know what happened. I got nervous, probably. And blamed you for it.” He chuckled uneasily. “I’m sorry. I’ve been stupid.”

She shook her head. “No, not stupid. Just very stubborn” she said with a slight smile.

That was the way he was, easy-going, playful and caring, but also headstrong and loyal to a fault. And she cherished each of those qualities, never wishing for him to change. He was not perfect but he was hers and it was enough. She nestled back into his arms, gently twisting new braids in his hair.

“I knew I wanted you since we were both children” she whispered, her breath soft against his skin.

He stared into her eyes before kissing her again.

 

It was so simple. Simple and evident. As if it had always been there. As if the sweet friendship of their childhood had returned, brought back to life by the mere touch of lips on lips. They fell back in a routine that had been theirs so long ago, spending every moment they could spare together. Evenings at Dís’s were more familiar than ever, listening to old tales under the flickering light of oil lamps. There was no need to speak, no need to explain. It just was. Her hand in his, the way they smiled at each other, how they would search for the other’s eyes whenever they were in the same room. Of course, Kíli had been the first to understand and he had hugged them both at a time. Balin and Dís had soon followed, and Thorin had given his blessing more than willingly.

Weeks went by in a blissful haze. Katla couldn’t focus on anything that wasn’t Fíli. She planned their union in every detail, from the dress she would wear to the vows she would pronounce. She knew exactly what she would say. It seemed like she had always known. Fíli was her home. It was simple as that. Winter passed as swiftly as a bird flies and before they knew it, spring had come. Which meant less time together, since Fíli and Kíli were almost always out, running errands for their uncle. But she didn’t mind. They would have a life time together soon.

She was just back from herb gathering, the pockets of her apron full of roots and leaves she would turn into medicine, when Fíli stormed into her little study, barely hiding his excitement.

“We’re going to Erebor!” he exclaimed, taking her in his arms, making her swirl before letting her down.

A little dizzy, she stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“Thorin says there’s a way we can reclaim what is ours. He has met Gandalf in Bree and we’re leaving in a few days.”

She gaped at the news. “You’re leaving?” Her chin trembled as she grasped the implication.

“Of course!” he answered, all smiles and happiness. “Kíli and I cannot let uncle get into trouble on his own.”

He winked at her but she failed to see the humor. A thousand thoughts sprang at once in her mind. The journey was so long. But she had been to the Iron Hills and it was longer still. It was risky. But weren’t all trips? There was a dragon in the Lonely Mountain. What did they intend to do about that? First and foremost, it was the danger that worried her. Did they think this through? If it was Thorin’s idea, she had to believe it was not a foolish quest, for nothing Thorin did was ever foolish. Still, there was a last thing that distressed her. They would have to postpone the wedding. But Fíli was so enthusiastic that she didn’t have the heart to break his spirit. She tried to hide her feelings, but all emotions collided at once. Her mouth twisted as she attempted a smile. 

She must not have done a good job for he suddenly asked, worried: “Katla, what’s wrong?”

She looked at his frowning face, not knowing where to begin. He would only laugh in the face of danger, she knew. It was all Kíli and him were talking about, fighting orcs, defending their people. They had been raised that way. It would be a dishonor for Fíli to stay back, for whatever reason. He was young, that was true, but not unfit for combat. How could he stay behind? He would go, not only for himself, but for his uncle whom he loved above all else. Maybe even above her.

“What about the wedding?” she finally blurted out.

She could see his eyes widen with the sudden realization. Obviously, he had not thought of that.

“Oh, Katla, I’m sorry” he said, biting his lips. “I guess it’ll have to wait. It cannot be helped.”

She had known what his answer would be, but she still found it hard to accept. Wasn’t it enough that they had been separated for more than half their lives? How much longer did they have to wait to be together for real? There were a hundred reasons she could think of for him to stay. Ered Luin was their home, however poor it was. To be sure, it was not as splendid as the Lonely Mountain, but wasn’t it enough? She cared nothing for riches as long as she had Fíli. She would treasure him as he would treasure her. Couldn’t he see that? Erebor was only a tale. A dream. 

She felt her tears coming and took a deep breath to prevent them from falling. Yes, to her, it was only a dream. But she was not a direct descendant of Durin. It wasn’t in her blood as much as it was in his. She looked away to gather herself. It was pointless. He had a hundred more reasons to leave and she would not stand in the way.

“I suppose there’s nothing for it” she said, shrugging, unable to hide her disappointment.

Fíli looked at his promised for the longest time, conflicted. He was eager to get married, to spend the rest of his life with her, but the need to go was stronger than even his love for her. Both he and his brother had grown listening to tales of the Lonely Mountain. He had seen the longing in his uncle’s eyes more times than he could account for. No, there was nothing for it. Erebor was home to his people. More than that, it belonged to Durin’s folk and to them it had to go back. It was not the kind of claim that one could deny. What sort of heir would he be if he didn’t follow his king? His own kin? It felt as his only purpose in life. Wherever Thorin went he would go. It wasn’t so much duty and honor as love, love for the one who had been a father to him and his brother all through those years. They were the sons of Durin and as such, they would stick together. Until the end.

“Look, Katla” he said, reaching for her hands. “I have to do this.”

She sighed, knowing she wouldn’t be able to change his mind, not even dreaming that she could have. He was noble to the core of his soul, and that was why he was so dear to her. She wouldn’t want him any other way.

“I know” she simply stated, tightening her grip on his hands.

“You have already been around” he said. “Seen the world. You are so much more experienced than I’ll ever be. I can’t have a wife that knows more than I do!”

He chuckled, trying to raise her spirits, but it only made her sadder. 

“Don’t say that! I’m not better than you!” She threw herself in his arms, aching for the comfort of his strong shoulders. “I’ll miss you so much! Oh, Fíli, you have no idea!”

He kissed the top of her head, stroking her long strands of hair. 

“No, but I think I do” he said. “I’m not taking this lightly. You’ll be with me every step of the way.”

She heaved a long sigh, closing her eyes. “I’ll wait for you. As long as it takes.”

He placed one finger under her chin, raising her face to him. She opened her eyes to meet his stare, and all she could see in his icy blue eyes was his determination and the promise he would come back to her.

“It’s only a delay, not the end of the world” he said, bending slightly to kiss her.

Oh, love of my life, she thought as she hugged him tighter, kissing him back as hard as she could, don’t you know that it is? What was this foreboding that she had? This sense that if he left, she would never see him again? She resolved to ask Gerda to cast the rune stones. She had to know, even if she could not do anything about it.

 


	4. Fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the end. If you thought this was a happy story, prepare your tissues, because i made myself cry writing it.

“What is it, my child?” Gerda asked as Katla stood there, in the hallway, wringing her hands.

The little healer was not sure anymore why she had come, but she had made it this far and Gerda was waiting for an answer so she explained: “I’ve come for a prediction.”

“You do know I’ve already read the portends about the reclaiming of Erebor and the time is auspicious” the old oracle said, wondering what could worry her brother’s ward so much. Was it because her wedding with Thorin’s nephew was delayed?

Katla still fidgeted, unsure about the wisdom of her decision.

“I know, but I thought maybe you could tell me if my promised will come back to me” she replied, her voice barely a whisper.

“I see” Gerda said, reaching for the pouch in which she kept the rune stones. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

The oracle took out the stones one by one and opened the palm of her hand so Katla could see the light from the oil lamps glittering on them. They were made out of obsidian, a stone so hard it was almost unbreakable, and sacred symbols were carved on each of their facets. 

“What is your exact question, little one?” asked Gerda.

Katla cleared her voice. “Will the sons of Durin come back from Erebor?” she said, not knowing why she didn’t ask about Fíli in particular.

The little healer held her breath as Gerda shook the stones in her hands before throwing them on her finely woven multicolored rug. They rolled like dice then stopped abruptly. Gerda studied the pattern and the symbols, frowning. She gathered them and tossed them again. Katla could see them fall in the exact same way as before. She looked questioningly at the oracle, sensing something wrong. The stones usually did not need to be cast twice.

Gerda shook her head and threw them a third time, but there was no denying the prediction.

“Are you sure you want to know the answer to your question?” she asked after staring at the stones for a long time.

Fear rose in Katla’s heart but she nodded. She had to know. She couldn’t bear to wait for months, years even, without knowing. No hope at all was better than hoping in vain.

“The sons of Durin will meet their fate” said the old oracle, her finger tracing the symbols on the fallen stones. “Erebor will be reclaimed but they will not return.”

Katla gasped. “It cannot be!” she exclaimed. “Surely you must be mistaken.”

But Gerda had cast the stones three times, and each time they had said the same thing.

“The stones can be hard to decipher sometimes” the oracle replied. “But they couldn’t be clearer. Thorin and his nephews will die at the hands of an old enemy.”

Katla’s eyes widened as she realized that not only Fíli, but Kíli and Thorin as well, were doomed. She stared at Gerda in despair.

“I am sorry, little one. I know how much you love them all. But the stones have spoken and they are seldom wrong” Gerda said, gathering them one more time. “Have you more questions?”

Her eyes watering, Katla still found the strength to ask one last question.

“What about Balin?”

If her promised and his family were doomed, did it mean that everyone would die? The old oracle smiled as the stones fell again on the rug, showing different symbols this time.

“My brother will survive” she murmured. “But he will go on a quest of his own. Though not so soon. No, not so soon.”

 

Katla's first impulse had been to rush to Fíli to tell him but how could she? Gerda had said that it was for her to decide as she had been the one to request the prediction. When asked what to do, the oracle had shrugged, entreating her to think well on the consequences of her decision. She was torn between her fierce need of him and her respect for his choices. She had no right to deprive him of this one quest. But if he stayed, he would have a life in the Blue Mountains. Maybe not the life he dreamed of, but at least he would be alive and well. It had seemed enough before Thorin came back with Erebor in mind. Why couldn’t it be enough still?

Katla was afraid to go to him, afraid that she would reveal too much, so she decided to go to her secret ledge, hoping meditation would quieten her heart and bring her wisdom. She knew Fíli was getting ready, packing his things. She could hear him laugh and joke with Kíli as she passed before the half-open door of Dis’s lodgings. Would he be so merry if he knew? She stopped in her tracks to watch the brothers toss their things to one another in a perfectly rhythmic ballet. They were so happy. So carefree.

Fíli caught sight of her and told her to come in, but she shook her head and turned away from the door. Seeing his grinning face was more than she could take. She heard his footsteps in the hall as he went after her, calling her name, so she began to run. But he caught up with her in the stairs, taking hold of her arm.

“Why are you running, beloved?” he asked, not understanding why she would run away from him.

She turned to face him and the anguish in her eyes made him release her.

“Leave me alone” she said in a whisper, her face contorting with misery.

He was so taken aback that he did not have the heart to go after her as she made her way up the stairs. His leaving made her sad, he knew, but what could be the reason for such gloom? He followed her at a distance, even though she turned several times to tell him to go away.

When he arrived on top of the stairs, she was standing on the ledge, one hand grabbing onto the stone wall for support. The air was warm after a sunny day and birds could be heard singing in the trees that shone blood red with the setting sun.

“Bad omens” she said. “Bad omens everywhere. Why did I even think it would make me feel better to come up here in the first place?”

He came close to her, lacing his arm around her waist.

“Hush now” he whispered, kissing her wet eyes. “Tell me what is wrong.”

Katla suddenly felt the world fall apart in a great chasm under her feet. It was as if she was losing balance, and she clung to him for dear life. He stared at her, failing to understand what was going on.

“Do not leave!” she begged, distraught. “Do not leave! The rune stones-“

She could go no further. It was not for her to reveal his fate to him. He sighed at her words, shaking his head, finally comprehending the reason for her despair. Old Gerda had told her he would not come back and she believed all that nonsense. 

“It doesn’t matter what the rune stones have said” he told her, brushing his knuckles on her wet cheeks to wipe the tears away. 

The quest would be perilous, he knew that, but he didn’t believe in fate. He put no faith in the stones. They could be interpreted in so many different ways, and Gerda was so old. Making mistakes was not unheard of. But he could see Katla was distressed far beyond reason. Tears were still running wild down her cheeks as her entire body shuddered with her long sobs.

“I’ll come back to you” he said, looking her in the eyes. “You know that, don’t you?”

She shook her head, unable to tell him that fate had decreed it otherwise.

“And even if I don’t, I’ll always be there, in your heart, in your memories” he continued, reassuring. “You will always find me, in that place in between dreams and reality.”

She looked in his eyes, his clear, blue, and honest eyes. He was so handsome, the fading sun setting his hair ablaze, a true prince with a crown of crimson golden light. This was as close as he would get to being king, she thought bitterly.

“I want you to shut your eyes” he told her, his forehead resting on hers.

She uttered an anguished sigh but obeyed nonetheless.

“Do you see me?” he asked.

She nodded. His hands cupped her face and he laid his lips on hers in the softest of kisses. “You’ll just have to close your eyes and I’ll be there. Always.”

Tears continued to roll down her cheeks as she clung to him. Why was he refusing to see the truth? She knew he only said those things to comfort her. She also knew it was their last day together. It was fate. But if somehow she could convince him not to go- But he wouldn’t listen to her. He wouldn’t let Thorin go without him. They were all Durins after all, and they shared everything, in life as in death.

Her hands flew to his hair, her fingers tangling in his long braids. She kissed him fiercely as the sun sent its last burning rays. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, sensing the urgency in her embrace. Tomorrow he would be gone and there was nothing she could do about it, so if that was to be their last night together on this earth, she would have him all to her before he left. 

She quickly unfastened his cloak and let it fall down on the ground. Then she unclasped her long dress. She could see his desire reflected in his eyes, so clear, so deep. They both sank down in a swift motion, aching for each other. The sounds of their lovemaking echoed in the quiet of the night as she moaned his name, each time with new fervor. They were not yet married, but he was hers as she was his, and it was enough for them both. Her sorrow made the pleasure even more unbearable, even more unendurable. Bittersweet. She would ache for him for the rest of her life, but that was a small price to pay for these few hours of complete bliss in his arms.

Dawn found them coiled together under their clothes, breaths steady, limbs entwined. Without a word, Fíli got up to get ready for his long journey. Katla was still sleeping and he wanted to keep the memory of their night together as intact as possible. She would weep again as he left, and that could not be helped, but he would not see her cry now. He dressed up, kissing her lightly on the forehead, then made his way down the countless flights of stairs, praying for her to wake up late so he wouldn’t have to see her tears.

When Katla awoke, Fíli was nowhere to be seen. She ran down, afraid he might already be gone, but when she arrived in the great hall, they were all there, in their traveling gear. She remembered a similar day when she had been the one leaving. Tears welled in her eyes but she braced herself, refusing to shed them again. She hugged Balin, knowing he would get to survive. Kíli winked at her playfully, ever the joyful one. Little did he know what fate had in store for him, but it was not for her to reveal what Gerda had seen in the rune stones. She bowed in front of him but he took her in his arms instead.

“I’ll miss you, soon-to-be sister” he said before releasing her.

“I’ll miss you too” she replied, choking with emotion. How could she tell him he would never see her again? 

Fíli only bent to kiss her one last time, just a gentle pressure of his lips on hers. As if that would ever be enough. The memory of their fiery embrace was still etched in her flesh, his smell still lingering on her skin. She somehow felt different, a little indecent, as if everybody else could see what had happened during the night. She blushed as he looked at her, knowing he felt the same. 

“Remember, I will always be there in your heart” he murmured in her ear before letting her go.

Dís seized her hand and they watched the little company set out until they were only dots in the clear horizon.

 

In the depths of Erebor were three graves, one for each of the sons of Durin who had fallen at the Battle of the Five Armies. Three silhouettes stood there, hand in hand, in mourning. Dís was barely holding on her feet, and Katla had to hold her up as she wobbled. The older dwarf lady had been brave throughout her terrible ordeal, hardly ever weeping during the long journey that had taken them from Ered Luin to the Lonely Mountain. But now that she faced the tombs of her family, she couldn’t refrain her tears from falling. On the other side of Katla stood a little Dwarrow child, a girl that had just begun to walk. She clung to her mother’s leg, frightened by the majesty of the place. Her blond hair and clear eyes left no doubt as to the identity of her father.

A few months after Thorin’s company had left, Katla’s belly had begun to round. She had felt the first signs of pregnancy long before that but had told only Dís and Gerda. Being unmarried, she knew she would be shunned, but she was surprised to find out that no one in their little community cared. They considered the child as sacred, even though no union had been blessed. There had been rejoicing on the day the child was born and she had decided to name her daughter Siggi. Victory. She would cling to hope and refuse to let despair sink in. For the sake of the child. For Dís who would lose everything, even though she didn’t know it yet.

When the messenger had come from Erebor bearing the sad news, they had both decided they would leave the Blue Mountain and honor their loved ones in their rightful home. Siggi would never know her father but at least she would live where his ancestors had been born. Dís and Katla had held on, with as much dignity as they could muster. But now that they were in the deep vault, all pretense flew away. 

There it was, more real than Katla had ever thought. The magnificence of the three carved graves was breathtaking. In death, at least, they were honored as they never had been in life. That was a small consolation. She wanted to scream and shout at the world how unfair it was that lives had to be reclaimed in exchange for the mountain. She would have given anything to go back to Ered Luin and spend the rest of her life at peace with Fíli. Cursed Erebor, that had taken the sun, the moon and the stars from the sky. But then, her eyes fell on her daughter, and her breath caught in her throat. There was still one ray of light in the sky, one that had the same smile, the same laughter as her father. He had been right after all. He would always be there. Every time she would look at Siggi, she would see him. Although the pain would likely never go away, it would be softened by the child’s presence.

“Let me go, please, Katla” Dís begged. “Let me mourn my way.”

The little healer obeyed and Dís collapsed on the ground, wailing.

“Grandma!” exclaimed the child.

“Let her be, Sig” Katla said, holding her daughter back. “She has lost her brother and two sons. She can cry as long as she needs.”

She moved forward and her chin began to tremble as her tears finally ran on her cheeks, unrestrained. She placed a shaking hand on Fíli’s grave.

“You will always be with me, my beloved, my husband, my king” she said, face bent down.

She took several deep breaths, then raised her head high and placed her daughter in front of her in between her arms.

“I hope that you can see her, from wherever you are, your daughter Siggi. She has your easy temper, but she is proud. A true child of Durin.”

She knelt down to hug her daughter. No, the line of Durin was not broken. It would never be broken. It would live on forever through its women, for the blood was stronger than any prophecy. Stronger than Azog’s hate, who had sought to destroy them all. Katla kissed her daughter. There would always be a Durin under the mountain. They would endure as they had always done, hardship making them fiercer. She closed her eyes, and there he was, smiling, reaching out to her. And it seemed that in her mind she could hear him say: “I’ll wait for you and when you’re ready, we can have all eternity.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I like to choose Old Norse names for my OCs. I thought they were fitting here, even though I'm sure one could argue that Norse names would belong more to Rohan's culture. Forgive me for that.


End file.
